mike jenkins

Guest Post: ‘Onward/Ymlaen’ anthology of contemporary Welsh Poetry edited by Mike Jenkins, with poem ‘No memorial f lisa’

Culture Matters is publishing a series of important anthologies of working class poetry. ‘Witches, Warriors, Workers‘ edited by Fran Lock and Jane Burn. ‘The Children of the Nation‘ of contemporary Irish poetry. Most recently, ‘Almarks‘ radical poetry of Shetland. And the subject of today’s guest post ‘Onward/Ymlaen‘ anthology of radical poetry from contemporary Wales, edited by Mike Jenkins. Here’s Mike talking about the anthology (and lots of other fascinating insights) with a poem ‘No Memorial F Lisa ‘from upcoming collection ‘Anonymous Bosch’ which will be published by Culture Matters early next year. You can buy the anthology here:

*************************************
The Spirit of 1831 –  ‘Onward/Ymlaen!’

DSC_3052 (1)“The anthology ‘Onward/ Ymlaen!’ published by Culture Matters comprises left-wing poems from Cymru rather than ‘Wales’. Why do I stress this? As the Welsh language poet Menna Elfyn rightly points out in notes to her poem ‘Neb-ach’, the very words ‘Wales’ and ‘Welsh’ are both associated with being ‘foreign’ : we call ourselves what others have chosen to call us, namely the English.

I choose Cymru because it means ‘fellow-countrymen’ and is intrinsically about belonging and co-operation.

Poetry has always been fundamental and not peripheral to our society. Every year at the National Eisteddfod we crown a bard for his/her free verse and chair another for their work in cynghanedd ( an ancient verse-form).

During the ceremony the Archdruid (who is, at present, Myrddin ap Dafydd: represented in this anthology) calls for ‘Heddwch!’ and the entire audience responds by calling out that Welsh word for peace.

Bards have traditionally come from many different backgrounds and one of the most renowned was ‘Hedd Wyn’ (bardic name of Ellis Humphrey Evans) who was a shepherd who fought and died in the 1st World War. An avowed pacifist, he was chaired posthumously at the Eisteddfod in 1917 , when they draped a black cloak over the Chair in his absence.

In Cymru, poets have also invariably had close associations with their ‘milltir sgwâr’, areas of belonging and identity, and you see this in the work of many  here, such as Ness Owen from Ynys Môn (Anglesey) and Gemma June Howell with her Caerffili dialect poems.

Ness writes in both Welsh and English, with the language and her feminism at the fore in her work –

    ‘Tonge-tied
excusing our way through
we breath in Mamiaith’

While Gemma hails originally from a working-class estate in Caerffili called Graig yr Rhacca, writing in the voices of its inhabitants, for all their faults so full of humour and energy –

    ‘A’rite? Nairmz Rhiannon
an I leve on thuh Rock.
I luv drinken ciduh
and I luv sucken cock.

welsh coverAs co-editor of ‘Red Poets’ magazine for 26 years (we annually publish left-wing poetry from Cymru and beyond) I am acutely aware of the importance of socialist and republican politics to our poets.

The majority in this collection will have appeared in that magazine over the years and, in particular, I think of Herbert Williams, Alun Rees, Tim Richards and Jazz who were there, at the very beginning.

The power of satire is vital to most of these, and Rees’s ‘Taffy is a Welshman’ deservedly won the Harri Webb Prize. It takes a well-known nursery rhyme and develops it into a scathing look at the history of the Welsh working-class, fighting imperialist wars –

    ‘He’s fought the wide world over,
he’s given blood and bone.
He’s fought for every bloody cause
except his bloody own.’

For many, their poetic heroes have been the likes of Idris Davies and Harri Webb, uncompromising poets never afraid to take on the burning issues of their times : Davies dealing with strikes and the Depression and Webb with the rise of Welsh nationalism and sense of Cymru as an oppressed colony.

In the 60s when Alun Rees, Herbert Williams and Sally Roberts Jones came to the fore, the worlds of Welsh and English language poetry were largely separate. Nowadays, poets like Sn Tomos Owen and Rufus Mufasa move between both their languages, often within individual poems.

Rufus is also a quite amazing performer, somewhat like Kate Tempest but with more singing and an emphasis on dub rather than rap. Her work on the page is quite distinct from her performance poetry, though both move easily from Welsh to English –

   ‘ Y bwrdd cadarn, caer / our fortress made of blankets’

From the multi-cultural society of Cardiff to former industrial heartlands of slate, iron and coal, there are a strong feelings of injustice and anger shared by many working-class communities throughout the British Isles.

One younger poet, Hanan Issa (who I met and read alongside at the Homeless World Cup in Cardiff) draws on her Muslim background, here reflecting on an incident in Marrakech –

    ‘ Immersed in the maelstrom
of a Marrakech market
.’

Yet, it has to be said that the emerging and enthusiastic independence movement,  which many of these poets are part of and which is led by non-partisan groups like Yes Cymru, has created a sense of hope more akin to Scotland in recent years and I wanted to reflect this in the title ‘Onward/ Ymlaen!’ I took it from Patrick Jones’s poem ‘The Guerilla Tapestry’ to encapsulate this spirit .

    ‘Following the dream of emancipation
     Your power we shall decline
     Ymlaen  Ymlaen

merthyr risingJones’s own journey from Labour supporter to embracing the emerging Indy movement is one which truly reflects our politically fluid times.

And the same word is echoed in Phil Howells’s poem about the Merthyr Rising which took place in my home town in 1831 when the ironworkers rose up against their masters to take over the whole town and, it’s claimed, raise the red flag for the first time.

Picture 1

image: dave lewis

In Welsh the slogan we’ve used for decades has been ‘Fe godwn ni eto!’ (we will rise again). Despite the Tory victory in the Westminster election, there is still plenty of room for optimism and these poems are sure indicators that the spirit of 1831 and the Chartists lives on.

Mike Jenkins is an award-winning Welsh poet and author. He is widely published and is much in demand for his lively performances and writing workshops. He has performed at the Hay Festival and the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival and has read and tutored at Ty Newydd, the National Writers’ Centre for Wales. Mike frequently appears on radio and television and is known among Cardiff City football fans as the club’s ‘unofficial poet’. (http://www.facebook.com/mjenkins1927; http://twitter.com/mjenkins1927)

NO MEMORIAL F LISA by Mike Jenkins


She ewsed t live above me
I could yer the comins an goins,
theyer larfter an  screamin.

Never knew she wern copin,
though she did joke once –
‘I’m even in debt to-a fuckin Food Bank!’

Mostly she wuz smiling
but sometimes I could see
the worries gnawin away –

rats in-a drains an sewers
bringin disease to er kids.
She woz a cleaner on fuckall pay.

Blokes ud come an leave,
er kids come first ev’ry time.
Few returned, sniffin, but not f long.

Er sister found er.
I know oo is t blame.
This town’s seen too many martyrs.

As we remember Tydfil
an, o course, Dic Penderyn ,
there’ll be no memorial f Lisa.

(Poem from ‘Anonymous Bosch’ which will be published by Culture Matters early next year, with photos by Dave Lewis of Pontypridd).

Photo –  Dave Lewis

Alternative CCFC CV by Mike Jenkins

The two sides of the same football coin can sometimes be summed up as being humour and violence; and what they both have in common is camaraderie, whether for good or ill. The depths of a football fan’s self-deprecating humour can be many leagues under the sea. At one of the rare Coventry versus a Premier League side games I went to, Arsenal beat us 6-1 in the League Cup at the Emirates. A night game in London, everyone had a blast, pissed up, singing the old songs that harked back to our own Premier League days. A few months later, we played Tottenham in the FA Cup 3rd round at White Hart Lane, and were duly beaten 3-0. So, what did the Cov fans sing to the jubilant Spurs fans? ‘You’re not as good as Arsenal’, because they put six past us and their North London rivals could only manage three.

russia hooliganNext Summer the English fans, for it is only they after the near misses of Scotland, Wales, and both Irish teams, will be heading to Russia for the World Cup. The media are already licking their lips at the prospect of trouble. A BBC documentary on Russian football ‘hooligans’ interviewed a number of organised gangs; those who caused the violence in Marseille in 2016, and were more than looking forward to the arrival of their English counterparts on home soil. There was no hint of irony in explaining how they were merely copying what English fans had been doing domestically for decades; but their perspective felt very dated, as though the UK terraces were still all-standing, and lads with mullets wearing bomber jackets, were going at each other. They are already planning pre-tournament jollies of violence, with the upcoming game between Manchester United and CSKA Moscow, where they plan to team up with their domestic rival like Zenit St Petersburg to cause havoc. No doubt Putin has a hand in it, even if it is only by riding a horse with his top off, and doing judo with giant fish in the Baltic Sea.

DSC_3052 (1)It is therefore nice to have a poem such as Mike Jenkins’ humorous “Alternative CCFC CV”, (his CCFC is Cardiff, not Cov) that marries the comedy of football fans with their penchant for a little bit of aggro. “I’ve stood on the North Bank, Vetch Field,/ supporting the wrong team/ (lucky we never scored!).// I’ve carried on striding/ straight into a marauding Chelsea firm/ saying ‘I’ve lived in Belfast’ to a fleeing friend.” It reminds me a little of the loveable rogue Robbo in Patience Agbabi’s poem, “A Devil in Cardiff”, ‘who would sell his nan for a pint’. But for all their love of the game and roguish ways, would you really want those types of activities on your CV? Maybe. 

Mike Jenkins is a retired teacher of English at several Comps. Novelist, short story writer for both adults and young people; he blogs regularly at: www.mikejenkins.net. He’s a Dedicated Bluebird. Latest books – ‘Sofa Surfin’ (Carreg Gwalch), poems in Merthyr dialect and ‘Bring the Rising Home‘ (Culture Matters) poems accompanied by images from paintings of Merthyr artist Gustavius Payne.

  

Alternative CCFC CV

I’ve stood on the North Bank, Vetch Field,
supporting the wrong team
(lucky we never scored!).

I’ve carried on striding
straight into a marauding Chelsea firm
saying ‘I’ve lived in Belfast‘ to a fleeing friend.

I’ve had a whole pint
poured down the drain
by Devon cops, just because City.

I’ve met the leader of the Soul Crew
running away from trouble,
but urging us to join in.

I’ve reached the depths of despondency
after the play-off loss to Blackpool
and vowed not to eat oranges again.

I’ve been to games in the Dungeon
on wet, freezing Tuesdays
when the police outnumbered fans.

I’ve seen droogies in bowlers
carrying umbrellas on the Bob Bank;
had an umbrella confiscated as a weapon.

I’ve witnessed Boro fans doing the Ayatollah
after we beat them in the FA Cup,
when Whitts scored with a rare right-footer.

I was there when Pompey took the Grange End
and our fans climbed the floodlights
as Man U threatened to invade.

I’ve broken my mobile and glasses
in goal celebration ecstasy.
Can I have that job in Security?

 

 

Abide the Bosses’ Law by Gemma June Howell

133375920_4ecb02a4d2_z

Image by Ricardo Liberato*

At which point the butterfly of globalisation first flapped its wing has been the focus of historical debate for many years. Some suggest that it goes back to Roman times and the imposition of ‘foreign’ forms of economic and social development throughout Europe – hence ‘what did they ever do for us’! But I see modern globalisation being about scale and worldwide integration of all forms of capital, some of which are good (raising levels of empathy and understanding of different cultures), some of which are bad (where capitalism soaks the pores of every crevice).

In more recent times globalisation reached its potential through deregulation during the Thatcher/Reagan era that released the bats of profiteering we see today in the long tail of economic inequality. This followed the shock oil price controls by OPEC, in the early 70s; which was the beginning of non-Western hegemony with the spread of global assets by today’s new economic powers from Dubai to Dehli to Beijing. Capital flows as quickly as the oil through transcontinental pipes, so we now have Indian companies owning British-based manufacturing and deciding the fate of Welsh and English steel workers. The origin of ownership doesn’t matter per se. But global capitalism is run in the same way whatever the cultural heritage as we see with ‘communist’ China. Owners may be hedge funds or political dictators, they are all driven by profit and their managers are their enforcers.

DSC_0656GemmaJuneHowellB&WLR

Image by John Briggs

Gemma June Howell’s poignant ballad, ‘Abide the Bosses’ Law’, inspired by the Rhondda Riots (aka Tonypandy riots) over one hundred years ago, resonates to this day. Our women cradled flasks of tea/while we clasped wooden sticks. /The kids looked on with hungry eyes,/We miners had thrown down our picks!” An oligopoly of mine owners had set prices and wages to the obvious detriment of the workers. “Though starving half to death out there/our wills were strong as iron./We wouldn’t take this lying down,/each man with the heart of a lion.” (more…)

Sofa Surfin, and Pound Shop Politics by Mike Jenkins

sofa surfinWhen I was eighteen and hanging out on an estate back home doing not very much, I had a friend who always carried a rucksack round with him. We’d be round someone’s flat and he’d stay there when we all left for the night. I didn’t think much of it at first, but gradually as I got to know him better, I found out he was homeless, aka a ‘sofa surfer’. Odd nights, when his mother wasn’t drunk (there was no known father), he would stay with her, the rest of the week, wherever he could find a friend. He didn’t come from a stable background, like I did, but that wasn’t why he was homeless.

It is a common misconception that homelessness is down to the individual’s misfortune, whether self-inflicted or not. Yes, there are such factors as drug misuse, crime, family breakdown that result in the person becoming homeless. But it doesn’t mean they have to remain out on the streets, or more commonly and less obviously, in B&B accommodation or a friend’s spare room or sofa.

mike jenkinsMike Jenkins’ poem Sofa Surfin, written in the vernacular, shows how easily it can be for many people to end up with nothing. “Ee’ve kicked me out/it woz a stewpid argument/’bout a juke-box/’Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep’.” And with homelessness comes bureaucracy, “Ever tried ridin the waves/of forms an offices,/find an answer in impossible paper?/Ever tried goin under,/I mean drownin alive/below all yewer memrees?” People find different ways to deal with their situation, as Ian Duhig’s poem Jungle showed in a previous feature on PP. But often it can end badly, “I stood on-a board/f moments before bein dragged down/t the subway, like an underwater tunnel/where I could ardly breathe.” Sofa surfin is the hidden away, unaccounted for, story of homelessness, where friends and distant family are called on because of the lack of affordable housing, a cruel benefits system and the exploitation of landlords. (more…)